The Ascent (Book 2) (11 page)

“It’s very heavy,” Jodocus said, smiling.

“Yes it is,” Angen said. “My strength lies in my arm, not my grace.”

“It’s true,” Wrothgaar said jokingly, prompting a back handed smack in the gut from Angen.

With another chuckle, Jodocus hefted the weapon and went to a nearby boulder embedded in the cliff wall that surrounded the town. He rested the point of Angen’s sword against it and mouthed a silent chant. He then closed his eyes and jammed the sword into the stone.

“Great Mother!” Angen exclaimed, wide-eyed.

Jodocus opened his eyes, chanting more magical words and focusing his power to draw energy from the stone. “The stone is very powerful,” he said. “And it is happy to share its energy.”

The knights looked at one another in turn, expressionless, as if in slight disbelief.

“Ah, yes,” Jodocus continued. “The stone is sympathetic to the Great Mother’s plight. It is giving the sword a great amount of its power. Can you see it?”

The knights looked at Angen’s sword as Jodocus held it. The pommel glowed with a silver light; the power of Earth. Angen reached out to touch it, feeling it vibrate with the flow of energy. Jodocus stepped back, making room for Angen.

“Grasp it like you would in battle,” Jodocus instructed him, “and thank the stone for its gift.”

Angen grabbed the pommel with a sure hand, feeling the strength of the stone pass into him through the blade. The energy felt powerful and rejuvenating, as if he, himself, was becoming an unbreakable statue as it flowed through him. Silently he thanked the stone for its gift and looked to Jodocus.

“Now,” Jodocus continued. “Pull the sword from the stone.”

With a grunt, the mighty Angen pulled his claymore from the stone. Metal ground against rock, and sparks flew as he withdrew it. When it was free, he raised it upright, gasping in awe at its refined appearance. The blade shone like silver, fully polished and carved with strange symbols of the Earth itself. The blade flashed and seemed to glow with a life of its own. Angen smiled, happy to receive this great gift from the Earth.

“It’s beautiful,” he exclaimed, “and even more well-balanced than before.”

Jodocus laughed, knowing that the warrior would cherish the sword until his end. “The blade is unbreakable,” he said. “And it will cut through anything, even the armor of the Enkhatar.”

“I thank you, my friend,” Angen said.

“No need to thank me,” Jodocus said. “It was the stone who gave you this gift.”

“I will bear it with pride.”

“I know you will,” Jodocus replied. He then looked to the sky and a smile spread across his face. “Oh look, our dragon friend arrives.”

The knights turned to look, seeing the dragon sail toward them slowly. They could see that the creature was not black as Erenoth and the Priests of Drakkar, but metallic gray with a slight shine. The wing membranes appeared as black leather stretched between its fingers, and its eyes glowed green like emeralds.

As the dragon neared, it slowed and began to hover over Eamon. In its claws was a scroll case, black and trimmed in gold. The dragon opened its claws, dropping the case. The Prince caught it, looking to Jodocus for an explanation.

“Open it,” the Druid said, smiling.

Curious, Eamon opened the scroll case, watching the dragon as it landed. Obviously, the dragon was some sort of machine. It was clearly made of metal, and driven by some unknown force. There was the sound of metal clanking against metal as it settled into a resting position, patiently waiting for Eamon to read his message.

Eamon unrolled the scroll that slid out, tilting it so Jodocus could see the script on the page. Jodocus smiled once again. “Ah,” he said. “The script looks familiar. I think I know who sent our friend here. Read it to us, my friend.”

Eamon cleared his throat and read the letter out loud:

My dearest Prince Eamon,

Greetings, my friend. It has been many, many years since I set foot on Eirenoch, but I can tell you that I was born in Bray over a thousand years ago. I am, and have always been a strong believer in protecting my lands and my people. However, my appearance has degraded over the centuries and my presence would only serve to frighten and confuse anyone who should behold me. Please forgive my absence.

I can assure you that I fully support your efforts to drive away this foreign menace, and will do what I can to aid you and your knights. For this reason, I have sent my dragon. He is what one would call a golem. He is an animated construct, composed of a metal which I have personally researched and made good use of. It is a crystalline metal that is stronger than steel, yet as light as wood. The dragon’s name is Titus. Please address him as such. I have instructed him to obey your commands. Please feel free to use him as you see fit. I am aware that your friend, Erenoth, is not available to you at the moment, so I sent Titus to take his place.

He can act as your scout as Erenoth did. He can also be used for aerial attacks and is a valuable asset on the battlefield as well. He doesn’t require food, obviously, but be sure to keep him well-oiled and supply him with a good dose of sunlight daily to keep him energized.

If you need further assistance of any kind, please be aware that I currently reside on a large island to the West of Eirenoch. It may not be accessible by ship, but I have created a portal that will transport you here instantly. It lies at Southwatch near the North/South border. Please do come see me as I have items and spells that may be of assistance in this battle. And please tell Jodocus that he was right about the fig trees. He will know what I mean. I look forward to meeting you and your knights.

Your friend always,

Traegus, Archlich of Eirenoch

“Traegus?” Eamon exclaimed. “The Lich?”

“I knew I recognized his script,” Jodocus said. “I am glad to hear he is still among the…well, living, I suppose.”

“Who is Traegus?” Angen asked.

“He was a wizard once,” Jodocus said. “One of the most powerful in Eirenoch. When the end of his natural life came near, he used his magic to extend his life…well, unlife. He is now a lich, a wizard so dedicated to his craft that he refused to succumb to the natural order of things and die like he is supposed to. He is a good friend, though, and his counsel would be beneficial in this battle. I would suggest going to see him as soon as you are able.”

Eamon nodded. “We will do so,” he said. “But first, Bray must be secured.”

“What about the fig trees?” Wrothgaar asked.

Jodocus laughed. “Just an inside joke,” he replied. “He can explain it better than I. For now, I feel that I should inform Azim that his brother is doing well, and not to worry.”

“Very well, my friend,” Eamon said, affectionately patting the Druid’s shoulder. “It was good to see you again.”

“Goodbye, Knights of the Dragon.”

Jodocus faded from sight, leaving the knights to return to their positions. Wrothgaar, frustrated, mumbled, “I still want to know about the fig trees.”

Eamon laughed as the Northman walked away. He turned to Titus, who stood awaiting orders. Eamon was fascinated with the dragon’s construction; segmented limbs, jointed wings and a fully articulate head. What a wonderful creation. Traegus was truly a master engineer.

“Titus,” Eamon addressed the machine. “Scout to the Southwest. Keep a lookout for the Jindala ships, and return to me when you spot them. Do not attack.”

The dragon bowed its head, leaping into the air and flapping off across the town. Titus soared higher into the sky and headed out to sea along the shore. Eamon watched in awe, wondering how a metallic object that large could keep aloft. Surely it was a uniquely light metal, one that would be useful to an armorer. He would ask Traegus of that possibility when he could.

Azim and the rest of the knights watched the dragon swoop by on its way to scout for the ships. They all knew now that the creature was on their side, but none yet knew its nature. They were all pleasantly surprised when Jodocus appeared near Azim, bearing his usual wide-faced grin. Brynn and Daryth both waved as he looked in their direction, and he returned their greetings.

“Hello, Jodocus,” Azim said.

“Ah, Azim, it is good to see you again.”

“Where is Farouk?” Azim asked.

“That’s why I am here,” Jodocus replied. “Farouk is preparing for a quest. It is one that will mean the difference between victory and defeat.”

“I do not understand,” Azim said, cocking his head.

“I cannot go into detail at the moment. Once he is underway, I can reveal more information. What I can say is that Farouk now serves the Great Mother herself. He has graduated beyond service to the Firstborn. One day, if he is successful, he may become the Grand Druid.”

“That is good news,” Azim replied, smiling.

“Well, yes,” Jodocus agreed. “But the journey he has undertaken will be dangerous and difficult, especially considering his lessened ability to fight. His future depends on whether he can complete his task.”

“I have faith my brother can overcome any obstacle that lies before him,” Azim assured the Druid. “He has our father’s resolve and determination.”

“Oh, I do not doubt that,” Jodocus said. “And his abilities as a Druid are impressive enough to attract the attention of the most powerful force in this world. He’s a natural. It makes me wonder where he got that.”

Azim laughed, thinking of how true Jodocus’ statement was. Farouk had always been attuned to the natural world, even as a child. “He gets that from our mother,” he said.

“She must have been a wonderful woman,” Jodocus remarked.

“She was. Our father loved her very much, as did we.”

“I will bring Farouk to see you before he leaves,” Jodocus said. “He is apprehensive about his journey. Perhaps a chat with his brother will improve his morale.”

Azim nodded. “I would appreciate it, Jodocus,” he said, taking the Druid’s hand in friendship. “I will do what I can.”

“Good, good. Now, I must go help him prepare for his journey. Good luck in the upcoming battle. As before, I cannot interfere, but I can encourage you to fight hard.”

“Goodbye, my friend,” Azim said.

With a smile and a parting wave to Brynn and Daryth, Jodocus faded. Azim turned his attention back to the sea. Thoughts of Farouk swirled around in his mind, bringing a smile to his face. He felt intense pride in his older brother, and silently prayed to Imbra to grant his older brother his divine blessing. With Farouk’s dedication and love of nature, he would no doubt put his entire soul into whatever task the Great Mother had asked of him. Farouk would not fail. Azim knew it in his heart.

Titus rounded the mouth of the bay as he scanned the sea for any sign of the Jindala ships. With his magically enhanced vision, he would be able to spot them with no trouble, even through their cloaking spells. He would then report back to his new master, and await further orders.

From the line of archers that he had passed on his way along the coast, the mechanical dragon surmised the plan of action; the archers, who were prepared to fire a volley of incendiary arrows, would set fire to the ships as they passed. Then, when the ships approached the docks, the makeshift catapult would be used to finish them off. Any enemies who managed to reach the docks would be dealt with by the assembled militia.

When he had reached a good distance from his allies, Titus summoned his own cloaking power, forming a shield around himself that would blend him in with the sky. He was now invisible as he soared above the shore.

Ahead, Titus saw a shimmering green mist that signaled the presence of the Jindala. He dove in for a closer look, sharpening his eyes to see through the magical cloak. He counted four ships, their decks overloaded with enemy soldiers that were likewise armed with bows. He circled the fleet, keeping a distance from the summoners who maintained the cloaking magic, and noted the rowboats that lined the outsides of the ships.

With one final pass, the dragon swooped around and headed back to Bray to report. The Onyx Dragon and his knights should have no trouble dealing with the enemies. Titus would contribute to the battle as well, using his own flaming breath to down their vessels.

It would be a good fight.

Daryth saw the metallic dragon pass and swoop close to let loose a growl of warning. The Ranger knight turned and signaled Eamon with a raised fist. Eamon returned the signal, prompting the archers to stand ready.

“Get ready, men!” Daryth ordered them. Brynn and Azim repeated the order down the line. The archers crouched, knocking arrows and awaiting the order to draw.

Titus landed near Eamon, folding his leathery wings and approaching his master.

Four ships. Fifty men and a summoner aboard each.

“Well done,” Eamon said. “Thank you. Be ready and try to take down the summoners any way you can.”

Titus bowed, sailing off into the air once more.

Within minutes, the shimmering green mist came into view. The sea was distorted by its magic, like heat waves coming off of black rocks. The wake of the ships was visible, but distorted to the point of simply looking like frothy waves.